


Shake and shiver just to feel you breathe

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Kink!verse [6]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, BDSM, Breathplay, Canon Compliant, Choking, Edgeplay, Episode: s04e05 RIP Moira Rose, Holy shit so much fucking aftercare, M/M, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer: Service Top, Pre-Negotiated Kink, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Subdrop, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24944293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: They agreed, during one of their many discussions on the topic, that they won’t get anywhere near edgeplay unless David asks for what he wants specifically. David had shrugged off this requirement, saying he was happy to just roll with it in the moment, but Patrick had fixed him with the look he gets sometimes when David’s describing something from his past Patrick finds profoundly upsetting and reiterated that if David didn’t ask for it, it wasn’t going to happen.So David takes a deep breath, and he asks for what he wants.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Kink!verse [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768552
Comments: 51
Kudos: 276





	Shake and shiver just to feel you breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another kink!verse instalment! Reading the earlier stories is not required (though, as the very biased author I obviously recommend it); they stand alone and are essentially canon-compliant (just with a different first meeting and their relationship being a month longer than canon) so that folks can tap out of any kinks/fetishes/etc that aren't for them as we go.
> 
>  **It's time for another PSA from your friendly neighbourhood kink peddler!**  
>  Discussions/negotiations about kink in general, and edgeplay in particular (which breathplay and choking absolutely is) should happen outside of a sexual context for everyone's comfort and safety. I deliberately chose not to include the full conversation between David and Patrick about breathplay within this fic, mostly due to my usual disclaimer about not taking your kink advice from fanfic. Please rest assured there was a long discussion about rules and limits and safety and non-verbal safewords, over several days, after this idea first came up in part four of this series. Patrick had a checklist. It's all in his spreadsheet now.
> 
> Title is from Matt Nathanson.

David feels like he’s about to climb out of his skin by the time he makes it back to Rose Apothecary after dropping Alexis off at the motel — it was an emotional whiplash of a day and all he wants is to see Patrick and have a glass of wine. Patrick is just flipping the sign to ‘closed’ when he looks up and sees David, and David watches as a grin spreads across his face. David slips inside, locking the door behind him before putting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Hi,” he says softly, and Patrick smiles up at him.

“Good trip?” Patrick knows the most important part, of course; David sent him a text about the exclusivity deal as soon as they were out of Heather’s sight, but he doesn’t know about the Ted of it all.

David grabs a bottle of wine out of the fridge before threading his hand through Patrick’s. “Yes, I’ll pay for it, just— later,” he preempts Patrick’s comment before tugging him into the stockroom to sit down next to each other; the couch was something David didn’t consult the numbers guy about, preferring an ‘ask forgiveness, not permission’ approach in this particular instance. Luckily, Patrick was very receptive to David’s exact method of asking for forgiveness for (and on) said couch, but he’s repeated himself a few times since just to be very sure.

He grabs a corkscrew and a couple of glasses off the shelf and pours them each a glass before letting the whole day spill from his lips — the thing with his mom and her weird reaction to it, the awkwardness of the whole vendor trip, the pain in Alexis’ voice in the car on the way home. By the time he’s finished talking his voice is raw and the bottle of wine is close to empty, and Patrick is rubbing slow circles into his back.

“That’s a big day, David,” he says softly, peppering kisses onto his shoulder through his sweater. “What do you need?”

“To get out of my head,” David sighs, unaware that’s what he’s going to say until he’s already said it. Once it’s hanging in the air between them, though, he feels the truth of it settle into his bones — he doesn’t know exactly what that looks like, yet, but he knows how to start. He takes the empty glass out of Patrick’s hand and sets them both carefully on the shelf, along with the last of the wine, and then he swings his leg over Patrick’s lap so he’s straddling him; Patrick slides one hand up David’s back and the other onto the side of his neck and pulls him in close, kissing him languidly until David’s head is spinning. It takes him longer than expected to catch his breath when he breaks the kiss, and… oh, okay. He knows what he needs. He turns until Patrick’s hand is wrapped around the front of his neck instead of the side, and presses forward a little until Patrick moves his hand away, dropping it down to David’s shoulder.

“What do you need, David?” he repeats, and his voice is firm but there’s a slight smile on his face.

They agreed, during one of their many discussions on the topic, that they won’t get anywhere near edgeplay unless David asks for what he wants specifically. David had shrugged off this requirement, saying he was happy to just roll with it in the moment, but Patrick had fixed him with the look he gets sometimes when David’s describing something from his past Patrick finds profoundly upsetting and reiterated that if David didn’t ask for it, it wasn’t going to happen.

So David takes a deep breath, and he asks for what he wants. 

“I want to ride you while you choke me,” he says, looking Patrick straight in the eye. Patrick’s answering smile is dazzling.

“Thank you for asking me for that, David,” he says softly. “I’m really proud of you. We can do that, of course we can.” And before David can formulate a response he’s being pulled into another kiss, more teeth than tongue as Patrick captures his lower lip and tugs hard before letting go, sending sparks flying across David’s vision as he grinds down into Patrick’s lap. He starts undoing Patrick’s shirt, half expecting to be stopped but instead Patrick just leans forward once all the buttons are free to give David enough room to pull it off. They don’t actually break the kiss until David needs to in order to yank Patrick’s undershirt over his head and then Patrick’s arms are sliding under David’s clothing, raking his nails up the sensitive skin before he manages to ease David’s sweater and t-shirt off in one smooth stroke, laying them carefully over the back of the couch at the opposite end to where they’re sitting. Without warning, Patrick starts to stand, and David half slides off his lap before he finds his balance. 

“Get naked,” is all Patrick says, and David scrambles to obey. By the time he’s taken off his shoes and stripped out of his pants and underwear Patrick has dragged the box out from under the couch, spread the blanket out over it and dropped a condom and lube on top. He’s still half-dressed, though, and instead of helping with that David drops onto the couch, crooks one leg and picks up the lube, drizzling a generous helping onto his fingers. 

“Fuck,” Patrick hisses, fumbling with his belt buckle. David catches his eye and doesn’t look away as he presses a finger inside himself, twisting slightly as he thrusts in and out. Patrick is staring, mouth hanging open slightly as he watches the movement of David’s hand, his hands on his belt where he got halfway through pulling it out of his belt loops. It’s only when David adds a second finger that Patrick seems spurred into action, finally getting the belt off and dropping it on the floor. His jeans are around his knees when he swears and kicks off his shoes first, shooting David a look when he snorts loudly. 

By the time Patrick is naked David has three fingers buried inside himself, thrusting in and out, his cock throbbing as it curves up towards his stomach. Patrick tugs gently on his wrist and David removes his hand with a whine, letting Patrick pull him to his feet so that he can sit on the couch instead. He opens the condom packet and rolls it on deftly before picking up the lube from where David dropped it on the couch, never breaking eye contact as he slicks himself up. As soon as he’s done David is climbing into his lap, sinking down on Patrick’s dick in one smooth stroke and causing them both to moan loudly in the small space, before pausing for a moment while they both adjust. 

“Hey,” Patrick says softly. His eyes are all fire and heat but they’re also crinkled up a little in concentration, and the combination does more to David than he’d like to admit. “Hands, please.”

David nods, bracing his hands on Patrick’s shoulders with his thumbs resting lightly on his collarbone. Then he lifts up, feeling the stretch in his hamstrings before lowering all the way back down again. He can get Patrick so deep in this position and he sets a nice, languorous pace, tilting his chin back in silent invitation. But Patrick’s hands stay where they are, resting on David’s thighs, and David rolls his eyes. 

“Green,” he groans, and Patrick rewards him immediately. One hand stays on his thigh but the other slides up his chest to his neck, the juncture between finger and thumb right by his Adam’s apple. 

“You’re so good, David,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.” And before David can formulate a response his hand is tightening, squeezing the sides of his neck as David concentrates on keeping his rhythm steady while he rides Patrick. Everything rushes out of his head, all the stress of the day and the keyed-up feeling in his stomach ever since they set foot on Heather’s farm and the look on Alexis’ face when he dropped her off. It’s all gone, and in its place is the most beautiful blankness as his head starts to spin. 

David waits until there are black dots dancing at the corners of his eyes, and then half a second longer before he taps both thumbs twice against Patrick’s collarbone. Patrick’s hand loosens immediately, falling to his chest as David sucks in a deep breath. The oxygen shoots through him, clearing his head and sending sparks shooting down his fingertips; he starts moving up and down faster on Patrick’s cock, gratified when the hand that’s still on his thigh starts digging nails into his skin. 

“Green,” he says before Patrick can even ask. “Again.”

Patrick obliges. He brings his hand back to the same position as before, this time not pausing before he applies just the right amount of pressure. David grips Patrick’s shoulders, careful to only use his fingers lest he accidentally signal and end this too early. He can’t focus on anything except Patrick, and then Patrick’s face is starting to blur a little and David feels a wetness sliding out of the corners of his eyes even as he double taps Patrick’s collarbone again. This time, when Patrick moves his hand away he brings it to David’s cheek, wiping away the wetness with incredible tenderness as David gulps in air. 

“How are you doing, honey?” he asks softly. 

“Green,” David croaks, and Patrick smiles at him. 

“You’re doing so well,” he says, pulling him in for a deep kiss before he breaks away and squeezes David’s throat for the third time. He can feel water pouring down his face but it’s so good, it’s just one more incredible feeling for the pile of things he’s feeling right now. The edges of his vision blur slowly this time and he only taps once against Patrick’s sternum; Patrick relaxes his hold so that David can suck in some air, but he leaves his hand wrapped loosely around David’s neck, just enough so that he can still feel it without it actually restricting his airway in any way.

His arms and legs start to tingle and then he’s floating, not away but just vibrating inside himself and it feels so good, he feels centred and grounded and peaceful. He feels like he’s rolling but it’s better, it’s so much better because Patrick is here, Patrick is taking care of him, and no one ever took care of him when he felt like this before. All he can feel, rushing through him, is Patrick. Patrick’s hand on his throat, Patrick gripping his thigh hard enough to bruise, Patrick’s cock brushing up against his prostate, Patrick looking at him with those gorgeous wide eyes and that beautiful smile, Patrick, Patrick, Patrick. Every tiny movement sets him on fire and washes him in calm, all at once.

He lets himself sink into a sea of glorious sensation.

David is dimly aware of Patrick’s voice. Patrick has a nice voice; calm, steadying, warm. David wants to wrap it around himself and live in it. He thinks perhaps the voice is asking him a question. David’s pretty sure he used to be able to form words. Too many words, maybe. But why would he need to speak when he can just live here forever with Patrick’s strong hand wrapped around his neck, not squeezing but firm enough that he can feel it, with Patrick’s cock buried deep in his ass, Patrick’s voice curling questioningly around his ear?

But the hand is moving away and that’s not right, that’s not what it’s supposed to do. Oh, that’s right, the question is important. If David can’t answer, Patrick will stop. He doesn’t want Patrick to stop. He wants to feel like this forever. 

Forcing the words out of his throat is the hardest thing he’s ever done. Harder than losing their money. Harder than asking Stevie to fuck Sebastien Raine for a memory card. Harder than telling Paris she wasn’t completely terrible in Repo! The Genetic Opera. 

“Green.” It’s a breath of a whisper but it’s out, he’s done it, and Patrick’s hand is back and everything’s okay. He’s not applying any pressure, not any more, but just the feeling of a hand wrapped around his throat is enough. It’s more than enough, it’s everything, David’s world has reduced to his neck and Patrick’s hand and it’s so good, he’s never felt anything like this. And then there’s another hand, and that hand is wrapped around his cock and there’s a burst of heat in his gut and then every nerve ending in David’s body explodes, all at once. He thought a toe-curling orgasm was a turn of phrase, something out of a trashy romance novel, but no, David’s toes are literally curling, they’re the only part of his body he’s actually conscious of right now. Somebody very far away is wailing, someone should really address that, but then Patrick is grabbing his face with both hands and yanking him into a searing kiss as he thrusts up sharply and then stills and the wailing chokes off abruptly and oh, God, maybe it was him. 

“David,” Patrick whispers in his ear, and it’s the first David realises he’s slumped over, his forehead pressed to Patrick’s shoulder. How long has he been like this? “I’m really sorry, but I need you to move.”

David tries, he really does. Patrick wanting something is usually enough to spur his body into action but not this time; no matter how hard he tries, he cannot convince his leg to unhook itself from across Patrick’s lap.

“David?” 

“Can’t move,” David says, or tries to, but it comes out as a muffled “cmph” against Patrick’s skin. He feels Patrick’s chuckle rumbling deep in his chest, one hand sliding up David’s back as the other grips his thigh. He doesn’t quite understand what happens next but suddenly he’s being flipped, his back pressed into the couch as Patrick kisses him softly before releasing his leg to grip the base of the condom and slide out slowly.

The expression on his face must be something, because Patrick tips his head back and laughs as he disposes of the condom and pulls his underwear on. “Did I ever tell you I wrestled in high school?” 

_ No, no you did not, _ David thinks, but he can’t quite convince the words to come out. He watches Patrick get dressed before he crouches back down next to David, resting a hand on his knee.

“David. Are you all right?” he asks, forehead wrinkling and eyes full of concern. And David doesn’t know how to tell him this is the best he’s ever felt so he just nods, a little jerkily.

Patrick bites his lip. “Hang on a second,” he says before disappearing through the curtain. David closes his eyes for a second, just a second, but then there’s a cool wet cloth on his stomach and it makes him startle. Patrick cleans him up quickly and even the light touch of the cloth to his skin makes him tingle all over. And then something cold is being pressed into his hand and David curls his fingers around it instinctively.

“Drink,” Patrick says, and oh, it’s a bottle of water. That makes sense. David focuses everything he has on moving his arm and after a moment it obeys, bringing the drink up to his lips where he empties it in five long swallows. The fog in his head clears a tiny bit, enough that he can reach out for his t-shirt and sweater where they’re still on the back of the couch, and pull them over his head. When he tries to lean forward for his underwear on the floor, though, he finds the limits of what his body is willing to do right now and slumps back against the couch instead.

“Can you pass me my clothes?” he mumbles. Patrick opens his mouth like he’s considering a teasing remark, but when he rakes his eyes over David he snaps it shut again and instead picks up his underwear and trousers, placing them on the couch next to him. Somehow, somehow he manages to drag them on, shimmying them up his legs as far as possible before he has to lift himself off the couch to get them the rest of the way. When he finally has the trousers fastened he tries to stand again and does manage to get himself upright, but his head starts spinning again and he staggers.

“Whoa, hey,” Patrick says, grabbing so his shoulder is underneath David’s armpit, propping him up. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He’s biting his lip and David can’t have that, can’t have Patrick thinking something is wrong when everything is the most right it’s been in David’s life.

“So good,” he says, and it comes out a little more slurred than he intends but at least he’s said it. He strokes Patrick’s face. “So good, you make me feel so good.”

Patrick looks up at him for a moment, searching his face for something but eventually he nods, apparently satisfied. “Okay. Need me to put your shoes on?”

David nods. Bending down does not seem like a good idea right now. 

“Can you stay upright if I let you go?”

David considers this for a moment before nodding again. He tries not to pout when the warm steadying weight of Patrick disappears, closing his eyes to try and stop swaying at the loss of contact. He blindly follows Patrick’s silent direction, lifting first one foot and then the other as Patrick grasps each ankle, and doesn’t open his eyes again until Patrick grasps his hand.

“Let’s get you home, David,” he says, and David stumbles after him out of the store and practically collapses into Patrick’s car. He’s certain he just blinks, but when he opens his eyes again they’re pulling into the motel car park.

When they park outside the motel Patrick leans over to kiss him and David melts into it, loose-limbed and boneless and fluttery. He’s leaning more heavily into Patrick than he normally would and rocks forward when Patrick pulls back, flailing slightly as Patrick grabs his shoulders to push him back upright. 

“Okay,” Patrick says, clearly making a concerted effort to hide his amusement which David appreciates. “I think it’s best if I help you inside.” He gets out of the car and comes around to the passenger side, opening the door and hauling David to his feet. He’s propping himself up on Patrick and so they stumble more than walk into his room where Alexis is in bed, a box of tissues next to her as she scrolls through her phone. Neither of them comments on her red eyes. 

“Um, what’s with him?” she asks Patrick. And David wants to be offended that she’s talking about him like he’s not here, but he also doesn’t want to answer any of her questions, so he just presses up against Patrick’s cheek which means he  _ feels  _ Patrick flush rather than seeing it and it’s like the warmth spreads through him too, coiling in his stomach. 

“We had a bit to drink at the store tonight,” Patrick says, and it’s not technically a lie. 

“Who knew you were such a lightweight, David?” she giggles. 

“I’m not the one who had to get my stomach pumped at 11 o’clock on a Wednesday night,” he shoots back, and it’s less biting like he intended and more mumbled against Patrick’s shoulder but it hits its mark as Alexis scowls at him. 

“Ugh, I was fifteen, David! My metabolism hadn’t adjusted yet!”

“Okay,” Patrick says loudly. “I hate to break this up, but let’s get you into bed, okay?”

“Mm, nope, skincare first,” he says, trying to stagger towards the bathroom but Patrick’s arm is still wrapped around his waist, holding him firm. 

“You can skip it for one night, David,” he argues. Before David can open his mouth to challenge this blatant disrespect, Alexis snorts. 

“Good luck with  _ that,” _ she sing-songs, and David feels Patrick sigh.

“Right. Come on,” he says, tugging David towards the bathroom.

“Door open!” Alexis calls from the bed. 

“I’ll have you know that we already—” David starts, and Patrick claps a hand over his mouth. 

“Ew, David!” she shrieks. 

David is still feeling warm and tingly and not quite inside his own body, and he’s pressed up against Patrick in a small space with Patrick effectively gagging him. He can’t be held responsible for the way he rolls their hips together, causing Patrick to bite his own lip hard before stepping back as far as the tiny bathroom will allow. 

“Skincare, David,” he says firmly. And David wants to do more things for that tone of voice but he is, actually, pretty out of it and tired down to his bones so he lets Patrick flip the toilet lid closed and guide him gently down to sit on it. “Cleanser first, right?”

David nods slowly and then Patrick’s fingers are on him, deft and sure as he massages it into David’s skin. Once he’s finished with that step he reaches for the exfoliator without even checking, and David stares at him. He’s done this in front of Patrick half a dozen times at most, actual sleepovers being relatively rare due to their respective living situations, and he had no idea Patrick was… cataloguing. 

They don’t speak, Patrick working through the routine in comfortable silence. He mixes up the order of the serum and the under-eye serum but that’s okay; it’s an understandable mistake and David’s nearly falling asleep where he sits, so he is more than a little overwhelmed that Patrick is even doing this for him. 

When they’re done Patrick half-carries him out of the bathroom and over to his bed. He peels David’s sweater over his head, folding it carefully and placing it on the bedside table, before kneeling at his feet to unlace his shoes. Once he’s eased those off he moves to tackle David’s trousers, and David is more exhausted than he’s ever been but still, Patrick is kneeling in front of him with his studious face on as he tries to figure out the fastener and it’s not David’s fault he has to angle away from Alexis’ bed a little bit even though she turned away as soon as David started undressing. And then Patrick smirks up at him and… well. That doesn’t help. 

Finally, he’s in just his t-shirt and underwear and Patrick is pulling back the covers of his bed. David clambers in and lies back as Patrick pulls the sheets back up around him, swiping his thumb along David’s cheekbone. He thinks maybe Alexis is saying something to Patrick, and there’s a ghost of a sensation on his forehead that might or might not be a kiss, but he’s asleep the moment his head hits the pillow. 

* * *

He still feels a bit spacey when he wakes up the next morning — it’s not bad, it’s the opposite of bad, he can’t remember ever waking up feeling this satiated. But it takes him two tries to flush the toilet and he almost skips the toner completely in his skincare routine, and the first time he tries to leave he walks out the door without his phone. He has to make a concentrated effort to put one foot in front of the other as he walks to work and so it’s later than normal when he finally arrives at the store. He’s half-expecting some sort of acerbic comment from Patrick but instead he grins widely when he looks up and sees David, before coming around the counter and kissing him rather more firmly than he’s usually willing to during business hours.

“Good morning,” Patrick says when he pulls away. “How are you feeling?” He swipes a thumb across David’s jaw as he says it and something about the casual intimacy of the gesture and the way it sends fireworks dancing along behind it makes David want to cry and lean into it and drop to his knees, all at once.

“I’m good,” he says in lieu of any of that, and it immediately feels inadequate. “I feel so good, you have no idea,” he adds, unable to resist turning his head and nipping Patrick’s thumb. Patrick hisses, but when David glances back at him his eyes have darkened a little.

“Hey, I brought you something,” Patrick says, stepping back with what looks like reluctance. He reaches around the till and pulls out a thermos, pressing it into David’s hands. “I didn’t put the cocoa powder in — I didn’t know what time you’d be here, and I didn’t want it to get gross? But I can pop across to the café if you want,” he says, babbling in a way he only does when he’s anxious and trying not to show it.

David shakes his head quickly. “This is perfect,” he whispers, overwhelmed. “Thank you.”

Patrick presses a kiss to his cheek. “It’s no problem, I’m happy to do it,” he says as he heads back behind the counter, and David thinks he actually means it. He’s still not used to someone  _ wanting _ to take care of him and he’s never quite sure how to react to it, so instead of saying anything in response he flicks the lid open and takes a long drink. It’s hot and sweet and exactly what he needed, and he hums a little as he lets his eyes flutter shut. When he opens them again Patrick is glancing down at the counter with a pleased little smile, the tips of his ears pink.

It’s a quiet day at the store, and David can feel Patrick’s eyes on him whenever they’re on opposite sides of the store for whatever reason. Even though they don’t need the extra coverage Patrick calls the café and asks Twyla to run their lunch over, and David is inordinately pleased that Patrick doesn’t seem to want to be away from him. The whole day is filled with casual, intimate little touches — a hand on his lower back, a brush of the backs of their hands, a squeeze of his shoulder — and David feels  _ incredible, _ his skin thrumming. 

Which is why it’s a surprise when, half an hour before they close, he crashes  _ hard. _ One minute he’s blatantly ogling Patrick as he bends over to face the stock on one of the lower shelves and the next he’s swaying on his feet, his hand shooting out to brace himself on the counter to prop himself upright. Patrick whirls around and is behind the counter before David can blink, wrapping an arm around his waist and leading him through to the back room, sitting him gently down on the couch. Then he ducks back out to the store and is gone for a couple of minutes before he returns, a bottle of water and a block of chocolate in his hand.

“Here,” he says, pressing the water gently into David’s hand and placing the chocolate on the couch. “Drink that, and get some sugar into you, and then I’ll take you home, okay?”

“We’re not closed yet,” David whispers, his head spinning with the effort to form words.

“Yes we are,” Patrick says firmly, and David blinks up at him — Patrick is a stickler for the hours on the door. “David, it’s fine. It’s been a quiet day anyway, and taking care of you is more important.”

David blinks quickly, clearing away the dampness pooling there.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” Patrick asks, and David shakes his head quickly.

“Just you. Come sit with me,” he says. Patrick smiles and sits down next to him, tucking himself close and wrapping an arm around him. He rubs small circles into David’s shoulder and presses soft kisses to his temple, and David doesn’t think he’s ever felt more settled than he does right now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
